by Sam Destiny
“Okay, tell me then,” he demanded softly, and she crossed her arms.
“She was a bitch, as expected. But it’s funny, when you’re ready to let go, how it hurts a lot less. I’m not sure what she wants, besides finding a way to make her life better, but that’s okay. She was gone this morning before Tammy and I got up, and while I’m sure she’s not gone for good, maybe she understood that approaching us on more civil grounds would get her further.” She shrugged and then crossed her arms in front of her body. Something else was on her mind, and Mason stepped closer, rubbing her arms.
“What else?”
Taylor lowered her eyes and then took a deep breath. “Tamara told me last night that she misses Dad. I wonder if maybe I should try to find him. Not that I’d know where to look,” she admitted, and Mason rested his forehead against hers. As much as he wished he could do magic, finding her father seemed almost impossible.
***
Taylor felt Mason sigh and knew he felt bad for not being able to help her. “This wasn’t about making you feel guilty,” she pointed out, and he gave her a weak smile.
“It’s just that when I finally have you around and can offer you the world, things come up that I cannot do a damn thing about. I can easily take over all the farm work on your farm if you need me to, and I can clean out ten bedrooms if that’s what’s asked, but I cannot keep your mother from being spiteful or make your father reappear,” he whispered, and she laughed.
“And here I thought you were a man who liked challenges,” she teased, only to cuddle into his arms a second later. “Besides, I don’t need you to do any of that. I just need you to listen when I complain about my mother or contemplate my father,” she admitted, and he kissed her forehead, nodding.
“And I’ll always be there to do just that.” Taylor had no doubt about it.
“So … plan for the day; I need to get into town, sign the accounts and the transfers, and then I need to buy some last-minute gifts. I think it’s best to act as normal as possible,” she told him, and he squeezed her hand.
“First, you need to see some people who really missed you.” He winked, and she burst out laughing another time.
“What the hell was that? Becca looked as if someone had died.” She giggled at the memory of his daughter’s face.
“You should’ve seen her walking down the stairs with that face, pulling her stuffed bunny after her.”
“Rora.”
“What?” he asked, confused.
“That stuffed bunny’s name is Rora.” Mason’s brow furrowed in doubt, and she shrugged her shoulders. “I told her that all stuffed animals needed names, and she asked me for examples. I could only come up with Roger Rabbit. So when she wanted to name it that, I told her that surely she could come up with her own name.”
“And Rora is what she came up with?” he asked skeptically, and she nodded.
“I think it most likely was my intonation. I always put the focus on the first two letters of the names. She just went with it. And decided the bunny was clearly a girl then and surprise, Rora loves doing tea parties with Becca’s dolls.”
She couldn’t decipher the emotion in Mason’s eyes, but it looked as if he was ready to devour her.
“She needed you in her life,” he finally stated, and Taylor nodded, cocking her head.
“You both did, cowboy. We knew that already,” she pointed out and then sashayed inside, knowing that Mason was watching her every step.
“Tay!”
“Mom!”
Taylor all but stumbled as Tim and, just shortly after, Becca threw their arms around her legs.
“We missed you so much,” the girl nearly sobbed, and Taylor picked her up.
“I prepared the bacon exactly how you like it, but Mason left me alone, so I had to do it by myself,” Timothy explained and threw an angry glance at Mason, who had entered the house behind her.
“Sorry, buddy, I needed a second alone with Taylor.”
“I know, to push your tongue into her mouth,” the boy stated, rolling her eyes.
“Timothy Collins,” Taylor called, outraged, while she could hear her sister’s giggles in the kitchen. She must’ve slipped inside during the turmoil.
“That’s what they say in school. But I don’t get what should be nice about it. It’s all gross and eww.” The boy shook his head, faking a shudder, and then he left to head back to the cooking.
“Oh no,” Taylor groaned. “We’re getting there. Puberty’s coming!” She hid her face in her hands, already dreading all the talks that would come with it.
“You know, I can always have those talks with him,” Mason offered.
“Or I could.”
Taylor spun around, staring at the shadow in the door that Mason had left open because they hadn’t entered the house far enough before the kids had ambushed her. Everything she had been ready to say was stuck in her throat as her sister rushed passed her, falling around the man’s neck.
“Dad,” her sister squealed, and Taylor could only stare.
“Mister Collins,” Mason greeted him politely, almost stiff.
“Mason, I thought we were on a first-name basis already.” Her father smiled insecurely.
“Why don’t we finally close the door and all settle down in the kitchen and have breakfast? Heavy talks happen best on a full stomach,” Stella announced, joining them in the hall. Taylor couldn’t get around noticing that Tamara all but clung to their father while Taylor had no idea what to think.
“We were, Mister Collins, but until I know you won’t act like your wife did around your daughter, I think I’m going to stick with politeness,” Mason replied, and Taylor went to his side, pushing her hand into his to pacify him. Whatever her father wanted, there was no need to cause a scene when Tamara clearly was over the moon to have him back.
Wayne Collins reclined his head in a small nod. “I can respect that, boy. I’m still gonna stick to calling you Mason.” He grinned, and the corner of Mason’s mouth lifted infinitesimally.
“Fine with me,” her fiancé agreed and then leaned in to kiss Taylor’s hair. “Mom and I’ll prepare the table. Mr. Collins, you’re welcome to join us. The kids tend to prepare too much and eat too little.” Mason smirked, and Stella nodded in agreement.
“Thank you so much. I’ve been driving all night and wouldn’t mind some food,” her father admitted, and Taylor wondered why but decided to agree with Stella. Some things really were better settled with food in their stomachs. Additionally, Taylor wasn’t ready for discussions or confessions. There had been too many in the last few days anyway.
Mason left and took his mom with him, following Tamara, who’d left after a quick kiss to her father’s cheek.
“You’re beautiful, daughter,” her dad finally said, looking at Taylor.
“Life has been treating me well for the last months,” she agreed and then gave him a smile. “It’s good to see you. Seems Santa granted one of the Collins’ girls her Christmas wish.”
Her father stepped forward and opened his arms, and as much as Taylor didn’t want to, she longed for a hug because, contrary to their mother, he seemed to have come with the intention of making peace.
“Daddy,” she whispered and then let him pull her close, breathing in a scent that should be familiar but wasn’t. It’d been too long since they’d seen each other.
“He watches over you like a hawk,” her father whispered, and Taylor didn’t even need to ask, guessing that while Mason had been willing to give them space, he worried things would escalate after all.
“He should; he promised to marry me and therefore be there through the good, the bad, and the disaster,” she replied in a hushed voice and then remembered whom she was hugging. He was one-half of the reason she stayed away from home for twelve years. Clearing her throat, she stepped back.
“Mason Stiles, you want to marry my daughter?” Wayne called out, and Taylor turned to her fiancé, who leaned against the doorframe.
“D
oesn’t want to, Dad. He has to. It’s fate. There was never a way around it,” Tamara interrupted and then took their father’s hand and led him away in an obvious attempt to dissolve the tension in the room.
Taylor followed until she stood in front of Mason.
“Some people need forgiveness, huh?” she asked, and he brushed his lips across hers.
“I ain’t gonna forgive him unless I know he’s here to be nice and not tell you how to live your life. I’m happy, though; you figure that letting it rest is the best course of action for you. You’ve been troubled enough by the past,” he agreed, and she gave him a smile.
“Let’s have breakfast. My pancakes are probably cold already.”
He laughed and then kissed her nose. “Stella kept them warm just for you.” He winked, and she couldn’t help but think that maybe in the end everything would work out all right.
The sisters had agreed to keep Wayne around. After a rather busy Christmas Eve that hadn’t been the least bit awkward, contrary to what Mason had expected, everyone had settled down for the night. The house was more than just a little filled, yet Mason couldn’t deny that this felt more like Christmas than anything else ever had. Their little weird patchwork family had fused seamlessly, and he couldn’t help but be glad about that. Becca was currently asleep in Stella’s bed, only too happy to be sharing a bed with her grandma. It was a means to an end because Tamara needed a bed, and they had feared that the kids would’ve kept each other awake all through the night. Midnight was creeping up, and this was the first time Mason had been alone with his future wife in a couple of days.
She stood by the window, watching the snowfall outside. Her expression was serene and made Mason breathe a little easier.
“Just a few more minutes and we can bring the gifts down,” he commented.
“And eat the cookies?” she wanted to know, turning in his arms.
“That, too.” He laughed, cuddling her closer.
“Are you okay?” he wanted to know, and she nodded against his shoulder.
“Surprisingly, I am. I can’t even tell you why. It just feels as if nothing bad is coming anymore. Call me naïve, but it doesn’t feel as if Dad’s here to cause trouble. In fact, he has been nothing but awesome, hasn’t he?”
Mason had to agree. Wayne had helped wherever he could, preparing the turkey together with Stella, had wrapped gifts with Becca and Tim, and all around had made sure to stay out of their way. Besides that, he had dropped by the Collins’ farm and taken care of the horses and cows together with Daniel, the only farmhand who didn’t have a family.
“Oh, which reminds me, he asked Stella if she was okay with Daniel coming by for Christmas dinner. It seems that otherwise he’d be alone at home, and Wayne obviously didn’t want that,” Mason explained, pulling back to watch Taylor’s face, not being surprised as it lit up.
“Oh God, yes. I’m so happy he made that suggestion! Stella was okay with it, right?” Now came the part that actually made Mason choke.
“Well, Stella actually said it was our decision since soon this would be your house and your home. After all, you’re becoming a Stiles,” he whispered, seeing her eyes widen.
“No, Mason! This is your mother’s house, and I’d never ever …” She shook her head at a loss for words, and Mason framed her face.
“She wants this to be our house, and says she’d be more than happy to find a cute little apartment in town,” he explained, and Taylor stepped around him, still shaking her head.
“No, Mason, no way. This is her home, the place where she lived with your father, and where she raised you. No, I’d feel terrible to know that I forced her out of her home.”
“Forced her? Taylor, no way in hell did you force her! She wants this for us because we have our own family now,” he protested. He was surprised that Taylor took the news every way but well when he’d been over the moon with the prospect of making this their very own home – even though he had reassured himself ten times at least that it was really okay with his mom.
“If Dad hadn’t returned, I’d have suggested she moves into that house, but now … no, she’s staying right where she is,” Taylor insisted, and Mason rested his forehead against the cold glass, sighing.
He loved his mother, he really did, but if she was ready and okay with moving out, he was totally on board with this being his house.
“Look, we –”
“Let’s go and bring the presents down,” she interrupted him, and he groaned. Taylor was too stubborn for her own good, and sometimes, Mason wished she’d be just a little more compliant.
Before she had reached the door, Mason pulled her back.
“Hey, I want to give you somethin’ before everyone else does. You are the biggest gift for me in my entire life, and therefore, I decided that today you’ll be getting the first gift I get and the last. Just give me a second.”
“You gave me everything, Mase, I don’t need more from you,” she whispered, and he already heard that her voice was thick with emotion. He knelt next to the bedside table and pulled out a slender package.
He smiled to himself, knowing that Taylor would scold him for the money he’d spent. But she was worth that and so much more.
“You shouldn’t have,” she started before he had even handed her the little box.
“I should have,” he gave back and then let her open the first gift of the season.
“Mason,” she whispered, her fingers trembling as her fingertips went over the silver bracelet. The charms were intricate, and Mason loved each and every one of them.
“We have a tiny truck for all the times we spent in mine. There’s a pair of cowboy boots because we love those. There’s a musical note because …”
“You kept serenading me,” she added, and he nodded, moving further.
“These are baby shoes because Becca is our daughter now. I picked a bow because we’re going to tie the knot and the sign for eternity because I want to spend the rest of my life with you and last but not least…”
“A heart because that’s where we’ll be forever connected?” she suggested, and he nodded.
“Exactly.”
“Will you put it on for me?” she wanted to know, and he happily complied, smiling as she softly jingled the charms. “I don’t know what to say,” she sniffed, happy tears glittering in her eyes.
“How about thank you and let’s go eat some cookies?” he suggested and then saw her nod, before she padded back to the door, her bare feet looking strangely homey on the wooden floors. “Damn, I cannot wait until you are my wife,” he growled, making her throw him a glance over her shoulder that told him how much she couldn’t wait for that either.
***
Taylor grinned to herself as her newest possession tinkled like little bells around her wrist. Nothing she could say to Mason would make him understand how much she loved the gift, but she figured that being a mom and the best damn woman he could wish for was better than anything she could ever buy him.
Grabbing the gifts from the laundry room on the way to the living room, she paused as she heard murmured voices coming from there. The glow of the Christmas tree lit up the hallway, and Taylor loved it. She wished it would be Christmas every day because there were no other reasons to have the lights on at all times.
Peeking around the corner, she saw her father sitting on the sofa, twirling a long-stemmed wine glass in his hand. It was empty, and Taylor took the moment to watch his expression. He looked worn out, tired even, and not as vibrant as he had back when she had left the farm. Across from him sat Stella, telling him in a hushed, but animated voice about a trip she had taken with Becca on one of the horses. Seemingly, it had ended with both of them soaked. Her father smiled and then lowered his gaze, something flashing in his eyes.
“When Taylor was really little, she loved being on a horse with me. I think she was a better rider at five than I ever was.”
“Should you be eavesdropping?” Mason playfully scolded from be
hind her, making her jump, but Taylor just gave him an irritated look, focusing back on the talk in front of her.
“She loved being outside so much. I never worried that she could leave the farm,” her father just added. “One time, we found an injured squirrel, and it bit her four times before realizing that she was just trying to help. Taylor was too stubborn to just leave it be.” He chuckled slightly.
“She’s still stubborn,” Stella pointed out in an obvious attempt to soothe his heartache, and it made Taylor wonder if she had come up before in their discussion.
“I …”
She decided not to listen any further, figuring that if he had something to say, she’d rather hear it directly from him.
“So you think Santa left any cookies?” she asked, loud enough to alert the other two to their presence. She arched a brow at Mason and saw humor sparkle in his eyes. While cookies were left for Santa, someone had to eat them to keep the illusion alive … and Taylor clearly was willing and ready. The conversation in the living room instantly ceased, and Mason shook his head. She rounded the corner and acted surprised as she saw the other two. “Oh,” she made, and Mason passed her, kissing her hair with a chuckle.
“Hey, Mom. Mr. Collins?”
“Someone wants to play Santa.” Stella grinned, and Taylor nodded.
“Actually, I just want to eat the cookies.” Taylor laughed and then leaned in to kiss her dad’s hair. “Hey, Daddy,” she whispered. Having let go of her anger made her feel grown up and smart, and it warmed her heart; even though she was determined to one day get the whole story. She had mentioned that while she forgave him, she wouldn’t forget. His only reply had been that he’d make it right. Somehow, the words had held so much conviction she had instantly believed them.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he replied, shifting in his seat. “We’re sharing a bottle of wine and old stories. You care for some?”
“Wine or old stories?” she teased while kneeling down next to the tree to put all the gifts under it. She couldn’t believe how many there were as she had to go back two more times, but then she figured that for Tamara, it had been important to buy many because it was her first real family Christmas in a while. Stella had compensated all the years that she didn’t have a big girl to spoil, and well, Taylor’s father clearly had a guilty conscience. And the other presents most likely were from Mason. “We need to tell them that this is not going to be the norm,” Taylor fussed then, and Mason laughed, settling down on the recliner as he watched her.
